


Bad Idea

by blueraccoon, skripka



Category: NCIS
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-14
Updated: 2006-03-14
Packaged: 2019-10-26 18:47:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17751434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueraccoon/pseuds/blueraccoon, https://archiveofourown.org/users/skripka/pseuds/skripka
Summary: That's…not a good idea.





	Bad Idea

Contrary to popular belief, Gibbs doesn't live in an older house just to be stubborn. He lives in it because it creaks.

It's a security measure; as far as he's concerned, door locks are too easily broken. Intruders, however, tend to rabbit when faced with 193 pounds of armed ex-marine, often in underwear, sometimes drunk, once naked.

Gibbs is spending his evening sanding a plank smooth. The television set is a dull, inane roar and the washing machine dings quietly in the corner; he ignores both, sliding his hand over the wood to find the rough spots. 

There. A knot in the wood, not as perfect as it should be. He puts down his sanding block, straightens and twists, getting a sip of bourbon as he picks up the planer, bending over the job again.

The door upstairs opens. Steady feet walk overhead, jarring the joists. Directly back, so not a robber--one of those would have swung to the right, to the sideboard with all the displayed valuables. Ducky would have made an immediate left turn, into the small downstairs bathroom. Gibbs smiles at the thought; old men and small bladders. It's too heavy to be Abs, even in her biggest boots, or Ziva. McGee is still too terrified to drop by unannounced. 

As the door to the basement creaks open, Gibbs has it figured out. "Why are you here, DiNozzo?" He peels off a careful curl from the board.

Tony snorts behind him, the stairs making alarming sounds as he descends. "One of these days you're going to tell me how you manage that."

"Nope." Gibbs smiles, knowing that Tony can't see. Mystery is no small part of his leadership style. He brushes the curl away, folds up the grin, and stands to face Tony. "We have a case?"

"Nope." Tony's got a grin on his face as he deliberately echoes Gibbs' tone. "I think I decided I missed the smell of sawdust." He brushes his fingers against the boat frame. "Looking good."

Gibbs watches him, holding the smile down. "Something you want?"

"Yeah." Tony's voice is quiet as he approaches Gibbs and kisses him lightly. "You."

Gibbs wants to step back, rub his dirty hands on his face. This is a bad idea, and DiNozzo's not stupid. He knows it's one, too. It's too soon since... the last time. They don't do this often, and, while Tony usually initiates their encounters, Gibbs is the one who keeps their relationship in check.

"What gave you the impression that I was in the mood, DiNozzo?" Gibbs' voice is a bit sharp, pushing away the warmth the bourbon had settled in his gut.

Tony doesn't take the hint. He steps forward, placing his hands on Gibbs' arms, breathing against the skin of Gibbs' neck. "Didn't say sex, Gibbs. Said you."

He kisses Gibbs' collarbone, his stubble a rasp over Gibbs' skin. "I'm changing the rules, Gibbs," he says. 

Any warmth the bourbon had given him is now gone, and there's a cold ball in his gut now. Gibbs tips Tony's chin up slightly, meeting his eyes. "To what?" he asks, afraid he already knows the answer. 

"I want more." Tony says it simply, like it's so easy. 

Gibbs bites back his initial retort and chooses his words a bit more carefully. "That's…not a good idea, Tony," he says. 

"Neither is what we have now," Tony counters. He kisses the corner of Gibbs' mouth, his jaw, his lips warm and gentle and sure. "This is ridiculous, and we both know it." 

Gibbs is about to say something--what, he doesn't know--when Tony looks at him. "I want more, Gibbs. Cards on the table time. All or nothing." 

Christ. No. Gibbs frowns at him. "The risk is bigger." Too big, he thinks. 

"Yeah, so? Benefits outweigh the risks." Tony doesn't back down, and there's an open challenge in his eyes. 

"We're talking about your career here." Gibbs tries to reason with him, knowing it won't work. Tony's too goddamned stubborn. 

"Yours too," Tony points out. 

Gibbs shrugs. He's done his time. "I can always retire," he points out. "Getting fucked more often is worth that to you?" 

Tony's eyes flash with anger. "It's more than sex, Gibbs," he says, the snap plain in his voice. "I can get fucked anywhere. Christ, if that was all I wanted, I could go out now and have five guys try to pick me up before morning." 

"Modest, much?" Gibbs snorts, leaning back against his workbench. 

"Am I wrong?" Tony raises an eyebrow. 

"I wouldn't know." Gibbs turns to get his mug, knowing he's lying, wondering if Tony will call him on it. 

"Liar." 

Apparently, yes. 

He turns back, giving Tony a hard look. "I never did the club scene, you know that." 

Tony rolls his eyes. "You told me yourself, that first night. You'd seen me before. You knew who I was. Hell, you'd fucked me before. Cheap hotels and cheap apartments." He shakes his head. "But you're wrong, because I'm not a one-night stand. You want to get your rocks off, find some pansy down at the bars." Tony takes a deep breath, "You want me, Gibbs, you get _me_." He swallows, sighs. "Fuck, Gibbs. I want more than sex, okay? I'm tired of this shit. I want...I want more, okay?" He looks at Gibbs again, and his body language is challenging but his eyes are wary. 

Fuck. This isn't good. Gibbs' gut is roiling. "You're the one calling the shots, now?" He's goading, being deliberately cold, cruel. 

"Fuck you, Gibbs." Tony's face has gone bitter. "I'm tired of having to come over, have sex, and leave at fucking two a.m. I'm tired of having to discern _your_ schedule, when it's safe to see each other."

Gibbs groans inwardly. Even when he was trying to keep it simple, he was screwing Tony over.

Tony hasn't stopped. "I know exactly how dangerous this is. Do you really think I haven't considered my career? And you know something? I don't care." Tony's tongue flicks out, wetting his lips. "I want you. I want this. I just..." Tony sighs, deflating. "I want to know that you do, too."

This isn't going to be pretty. Gibbs can't look at Tony right now. "I don't," he replies, quietly. He raises his hand at Tony's indrawn, indignant breath. "You want to know why?" Gibbs turns; Tony's face is a map of anger and confusion. He nods, curtly. 

"Because I fuck things up, Tony. Because, every time I ever let myself hope for more, I lost what little I had. Everything falls apart on me. Why do you think I have a boat and not a relationship? Boats don't leave you.

"I don't want more, Tony, because if, for some Goddamned reason I got more, if I got what I've been trying not to want, I know I'd lose it." Gibbs looks down, staring at the liquid in his mug, wondering if there are better answers in there. It's not like he hasn't tried to find them before.

"Is that what your famous gut says, Gibbs?" Tony snorts, and Gibbs looks up, frowning. "Well, you can tell it to go fuck itself, then. I'm not a woman. I'm not a redhead in a skirt you have to woo and prove yourself to. I've worked for you for three years now, and I fucking _know_ you're a bastard. I know you snore and you know I hog the sheets. Hell, Gibbs." He runs his fingers through his hair. "I'm not asking to move in. I'm just trying to have something real here."

Gibbs laughs, bitterly. "You're crazy." He's a once-widowed, twice-divorced middle-aged man who ruins every relationship he tries. And Tony's offering him everything he could want. He shouldn't--but God, he wants to. 

"Pot, meet kettle." Tony looks at him, and when he speaks again his voice is quiet. "You won't lose me, Gibbs. Unless you tell me no, right now, you won't lose me." 

It's one word. One syllable, two letters, and he can't say it. Gibbs sighs and puts down his mug. "This is going to end badly," he warns Tony. 

"Let's go with the idea that it won't." Tony steps forward and kisses him, biting his lower lip gently. 

There's no point in resisting, in hiding what he wants. Gibbs kisses him again, his hands on Tony's ass, pulling him closer. Tony's hands slide into his hair, pulling him in for a deeper, longer kiss. 

"You want to take this upstairs?" Tony murmurs. 

"Not yet." Right now, he wants Tony against him, like this. He pulls Tony's shirt out of his pants, kisses his jaw, breathing in peppermint and salt and something that's just purely Tony. 

Tony runs his hands down Gibbs' chest and back up, under his sweatshirt. He leans forward and kisses Gibbs gently. "Will you let me suck you off?" he breathes against Gibbs' mouth. 

Like he'd ever say no. Gibbs licks Tony's lips, kisses him. "If you want," he says. 

Tony flashes him a grin and slides down Gibbs' body, clothes rubbing against clothes, until he's on his knees. He unbuttons Gibbs' jeans and pulls down the zipper, leaning forward to nuzzle Gibbs' cock. "No underwear?" he asks playfully. "Sure you weren't in the mood before I showed up?" 

Gibbs rolls his eyes. "I was doing laundry, DiNozzo." 

"Heard that one before." Tony sounds like he really doesn't believe him, and Gibbs is about to retort when Tony swirls his tongue around the head of his cock. The noise Gibbs makes turns into a drawn-out hiss. His left hand clenches around the edge of his workbench, the inset nail-hole that holds the bullnose edging engraving itself into his palm.

Tony's good at blow jobs; Gibbs finds himself trying to keep from coming too fast. He focuses on how his right hand feels against the denim of his jeans, the feel of wood under his left hand. Sometimes he wonders how Tony got to be so good, how many cocks he sucked before his.

Gibbs won't ask, of course, and Tony wouldn't answer. Right now, Gibbs is just glad to have a solid piece of workbench pressing against his lower back, because Tony's doing something with his tongue, pressing upwards and ... Gibbs lets out a long, slow groan. Jesus. 

Tony pulls off, hands braced around the base of Gibbs' cock, and Gibbs hisses again at the cool after the heat of Tony's mouth. Tony smiles and looks up, catching Gibbs' eyes. "I'm going to suck you down. Make you come so hard you see stars." Gibbs nods, dazed, his right hand moving of its own accord to rest lightly on the back of Tony's neck.

With another sly smile, Tony leans forward and swallows Gibbs. Gibbs hears himself whining, breath coming faster and harder as Tony keeps going. God, his throat contracting, his mouth, hot and wet, and Tony's got his nose against Gibbs' hair now and...

Gibbs curses, a long, loud, drawn-out "Fuck!" as he comes, cock throbbing in time to the rhythm Tony set. He slumps against the workbench, still vibrating from orgasm, trying to release the death grip his fingers seem to have on Tony's neck.

Tony chuckles, setting off more vibrations, as he licks Gibbs clean. Gibbs takes one deep breath, shuddering all over once, and lets Tony go. Tony gets to his feet, tucking Gibbs' cock away gently, smiles, and leans in to kiss Gibbs hotly.

Somehow--he's not entirely certain where he gets the coordination--he turns them around, pressing Tony back against the bench, kissing him, tasting his own come in Tony's mouth. Bitter and salt and Tony groans into his mouth, hands on Gibbs' shoulders. 

Gibbs kisses him again, hard and sure, his thigh pressing between Tony's legs, rubbing against him. Tony groans and pushes back, his hands tightening their grip. "You want it this way, DiNozzo?" Gibbs whispers, working his way to Tony's neck. He nips the skin, feeling Tony shudder, and grins. "Or I could suck you off." 

That provokes a full-body shudder and a groan. Gibbs smiles and licks the line up Tony's neck. "Of course," he says, pulling away slowly, "if you want that, we're going to have to go upstairs. My knees can't handle the floor down here." They probably could, but hell, the bed's more comfortable and that way he can probably get Tony to stay the night. 

He hopes. 

Tony smiles, although it's a little shaky. "Your knees can't handle it when it's convenient for you," he says. "Funny, I remember having sex with you on this floor." He licks his lips, swallowing. "Upstairs, then. I want your mouth." 

Gibbs laughs and steps away. "Yeah, but I wasn't fucking you, you were riding me." He tugs Tony's arm gently. "Come on, before I forget what we're doing." 

He leads Tony upstairs, pulling back the covers and gesturing at the bed as he pulls off his sweatshirt and gets rid of his jeans. When he turns to look at Tony again, Tony's pulling off his jeans. Gibbs is amused to see he's not wearing underwear either. 

"Bed," he says with a nod, and Tony crawls onto it, rolling onto his back and holding out a hand. Gibbs takes it, letting himself be pulled down on top of Tony. "You had plans, obviously," he says, nipping Tony's jaw. 

Tony laughs. "I was doing laundry," he says, dropping his head back. 

Something about the way Tony sprawls has Gibbs moving down, tasting and kissing his throat, collarbone, finding a destination in Tony's nipple. He sucks and listens as Tony's groan vibrates through his whole body.

Gibbs laughs quietly and drags his teeth over it this time. Tony twists, his hands flying to Gibbs' head. Gibbs looks up at Tony. "You like that?" He doesn't wait for the full answer, just Tony's panting nod, before moving to the other nipple. Something makes him twist this one with his teeth.

Tony yelps and arches into Gibbs, nearly tossing him off. Shocked a bit by the violent reaction, Gibbs asks, "Too much?"

Panting and flushed, Tony shakes his head. "God, no. Just surprised me." Gibbs watches as Tony bites his lip and raises his own eyebrow.

"Something you aren't telling me?"

Tony swallows hard. His skin is slick with sweat. "Um. Can we discuss this some other time? Like when I'm not about to explode?" He nods pointedly at his straining cock.

Gibbs nods and wraps his hand around the shaft. The question on his mind can wait, and he's pretty sure he knows the answer, anyway. Tony groans, thrusting minutely into Gibbs' hand as Gibbs' thumb circles over the sweet spot and he watches Tony's face.

Tony's biting his lip, his hips and thighs tense as he struggles not to thrust up into Gibbs' hand. His hands grasp at the sheets, his head's fallen back, and he's making soft little moans every time Gibbs twists his hand. 

Gibbs honestly doesn't remember if he's taken the time to study Tony like this before. He's pretty sure he hasn't; Tony's reaction isn't something he'd have forgotten. Gibbs isn't sure whether to be ashamed of that fact or pleased that it gives him new ground to cover now, so he pushes both feelings aside and lowers his head, sucking hard on the head of Tony's cock. 

Above him, Tony gasps, cursing incoherently. Gibbs tastes pre-come and smiles to himself, humming a bit as he flicks his tongue over the glans. 

"Gibbs," Tony gets out, a bit desperately. 

It's what Gibbs wants to hear. He pulls his hand away and lowers his head, beginning to suck Tony off in earnest. Tony tenses even more, straining to not thrust. Gibbs shakes his head inwardly with a wry smile. If there's one thing he knows he's good at, it's learning by example.

He works his hands around to grab at Tony's ass, pulling him deeper, letting him fuck his mouth. Tony makes an incoherent half-protest and Gibbs ignores it, concentrating on the cock on his tongue. It's heavy and thick and Gibbs can almost feel his jaw pop, but all the discomfort is worth it when he deep throats Tony and hears him whimper.

Gibbs swallows once, twice, three times, jaw aching and his throat going sore when Tony cries out, "Oh God, oh God..." and comes, filling Gibbs' mouth with bitterhot come. He manages to not choke and swallow it all down, despite the angle. 

By the time Tony goes soft and relaxes into the mattress, Gibbs pulls away. He feels no small sense of triumph at the vague, sated look on Tony's face. Gibbs squeezes Tony's ass once for fun before climbing back over him to kiss once more. Tony's lips are slack, but he recovers enough to wipe his tongue over Gibbs' lips. 

A wave of fatigue and reality hits Gibbs and he rolls off with a groan and an arm over his eyes. "I still think this is a bad idea." He rubs his throat, absently wondering if coffee or bourbon would soothe it better.

"Objection noted." Tony's voice is muffled. "But hey, at least the sex will be good." He says it with a laugh--almost a giggle, really, and Gibbs is amused by the sound.

"Laughing at the old man, DiNozzo?" he asks, but there's no real heat in it.

"Nope." Gibbs doesn't need to look at Tony to hear the grin in his voice. "Would I do that?"

Gibbs snorts. "Yeah. But usually you're smart enough not to do it within earshot." He turns his head to look at Tony, raising an eyebrow.

Tony just grins. "What are you going to do, Gibbs? Spank me?"

The idea's tempting. Especially given Tony's reaction earlier. But-- "Not right now," Gibbs says, sitting up with a groan. "I need coffee."

He doesn't miss Tony's startled blink as he finds a pair of sweatpants and yanks them on. "I've got some of that frilly crap you like," he says. Who the hell drinks hazelnut creamer, anyway?

"Aw, shucks. I'm touched." Tony gets up and pulls on his jeans. "But I'll stick to water. I think I've had enough caffeine for the night."

Gibbs snickers and gestures for Tony to precede him to the stairs. "Well, that just confirms you're crazy," he says. 

Tony grins brightly and kisses him. "I'm sleeping with you. I don't need any more confirmation."


End file.
